


so fill up your lungs and just run

by softestlesbian



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4456592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestlesbian/pseuds/softestlesbian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I didn’t even know you were pregnant,” Nick murmurs, a little awed. “How didn’t I know?”</p><p>“I didn’t tell anyone that didn’t need to know,” and her voice breaks a little.</p><p>Nick thinks back about a year ago. She wasn’t dating anyone, not that he knew of. Not after she’d broken up with... “Who’s the dad, then?” he asks, trying to keep his voice even. If this is Louis fucking Tomlinson’s kid, he’s going to have to have some very serious words with Harry. </p><p>*</p><p>or, Nick becomes the godfather to Louis's baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so fill up your lungs and just run

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackmustache](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackmustache/gifts).



> HELLO EVERYONE! this has taken me ten million years longer to write than it should have (including a half-lost first draft, which, let me tell you, is the MOST FRUSTRATING THING), and i'm so sorry to the mods for that -- thank you for all of the extensions, and here it is, FINALLY. <3
> 
> blackmustache, I tried to follow your prompt pretty well, I hope this is what you were after! (will I write more of this 'verse in the future? probably. I love sterling and louis and nick. also, i wanted this to be TEN MILLION WORDS LONGER.)
> 
> also, this was begun way, way before the #TOMLINBABY news dropped, and LET ME TELL YOU, SO MUCH INSPIRATION CAME FROM ALL OF THAT. 
> 
> a general note: the mother of the kid, Louis's ex, dies, and a scene takes place at a funeral. also, fair warning for alcohol use. 
> 
> disclaimer: this is so untrue. title from sara bareilles's chasing the sun.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” Emily says, and even over the shit phone line Nick can hear how worried she sounds. “Can you do lunch today?” 

“Um,” Nick says, thinking ahead. He’s got dinner plans with Daisy, but that’s just her coming over and cooking some things for him to eat during the week, and anyway he sees her once a week as it is. He hasn’t seen Emily in - god, it’s been months. “Yeah, sure. Give me an hour?”

“I’ll come to yours,” she says, and hangs up. 

He looks at his phone, a little confused and more than a little worried. Emily’s always one to keep calm, never panic; she’s never hung up on him like that before. 

She texts him right away, though, a quick, _be there soon! bringing food! xxx_ He feels as though he can relax more easily, with that; at least she’s not shutting him out. She’ll be there soon.

*

It’s a little over an hour before he hears a knock at his door. He isn’t doing anything; he’s staring at his telly, trying not to worry and failing. He’d texted Harry, but Harry’s off doing popstar things or possibly sleeping, he’s never sure what time zone he is in. Shit friend, he is.

He answers the door immediately, pushing Pig to the side when she tries to jump up. “Sorry!” he says, opening the door and grinning at her. 

And. That’s a baby in her arms. Well, in the carrier, but the - she’s got a baby. 

Nick feels very underdressed in his trackies and oversized shirt. His hair’s not even done. Meanwhile, Emily has makeup on and a summer dress that makes her look much younger than she is. 

“Who’s this, then?” Nick asks, bending down and waving at the baby, making a face. 

The baby doesn’t do much. Most newborns don’t. Nick tries not to take it personally. 

“My, um. My son,” she says, and she sounds as young as she looks. 

Nick looks up at her. Her face looks worn, like she’s ready to be yelled at, and so he - he just wraps his arms around her, letting her sag against him. 

“I didn’t even know you were pregnant,” he murmurs, a little awed. “How didn’t I know?”

“I didn’t tell anyone that didn’t need to know,” and her voice breaks a little.

Nick thinks back about a year ago. She wasn’t dating anyone, not that he knew of. Not after she’d broken up with... “Who’s the dad, then?” he asks, trying to keep his voice even. If this is Louis fucking Tomlinson’s kid, he’s going to have to have some very serious words with Harry. 

“Louis,” she says, and she manages to say it without her voice breaking. There was a time, ages ago, when she cried every time she thought about him or saw what they were saying about her in the papers. “Can I come in? Tell you about it?”

“Of course,” Nick says, letting her in, hand on her back. He looks around, and hopes to god they didn’t get papped just now. 

“Thank you,” she says, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I didn’t know… how close you were with - him.”

“Not very,” Nick admits, half-laughing. He sits down on the couch next to her, pushing her hair out of her face. “So can I go ahead and guess that you didn’t tell ‘im?” 

She shakes her head. “He wouldn’t want to know,” she says, vicious. 

Nick very privately thinks that that’s not the case, his personal feelings about Louis’s sense of responsibility aside. That’s an argument for another time, though. “So you kept it a secret.”

“As of right now, you and my mum are the only ones who know the dad.” She smiles down at the baby, who starts to fuss. “Oh, come here, baby,” she murmurs, lifting him up and out of his seat, wrapping her arms around his middle so he can bounce on her knee for a moment. “This is your Uncle Nick,” she tells the baby, who looks just as unimpressed as before. 

“And what’s your name?” Nick asks, taking his tiny hand and grinning when the baby gives him a smile.

“Sterling,” she says, kissing the baby’s forehead. 

Nick doesn’t mention that the name sounds like the antithesis of something Louis would choose, doesn’t ask if it was intentional. This is her kid. “Had you broken up by the time you found out?” he asks.

She nods, running her thumb over Sterling’s cheek. “I must’ve got pregnant just before we split for the final time. I was feeling sick for ages, and then - god. I found out right when the papers were all being terrible, you know, running those articles talking about how I was losing all my clients, and. I couldn’t face him when I wasn’t even sure if I was going to keep the baby.”

Nick looks at her instead of Sterling, says, “I’m glad you kept him.” Even if he’d have understood if she gave the baby up or chose not to have him. She just… she looks happy, like this. She’s settled into being a mum well, as far as Nick can tell with the few moments they’ve spent together. 

(He thinks of those new pictures of Louis with his little siblings, the babies, and his chest feels tight at the thought that he’ll never know; but as long as Emily’s around, it’s her decision to make.) 

“Yeah, so am I,” she says. She closes her eyes and rests a hand over her chest, visibly taking slow breaths. “Anyway. This is why I’m here.” 

Nick waits, but she doesn’t say anything else. “Yeah?”

“I need to know that if something happens, you’ll take care of him.” It’s quiet but sure, and Nick loves her desperately for the way she’s asking, even if he feels like he doesn’t have a choice. “I’ve named you as godfather, so legally, if… then you’ll take care of him.”

Nick wraps an arm around her shoulders, just to be there, just so she can feel his presence. “Is something going to happen?” he asks. 

She bites her lip, staring down at her baby. Nick’s close enough that he can feel the way she’s trembling. “They don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she says, “not completely, but… heart problems. And if he doesn’t know his dad and I end up in hospital…” She shakes her head, sharp. “My parents can’t -”

“Hey,” Nick says, quiet but firmly enough to get her to listen. “Of course I’ll take care of him. Of _course_.”

“It’s a big job,” she tells him, squeezing his leg, but she looks more relieved already. Like she’d honestly been worried about Nick saying anything but yes. “You can’t say it unless you really, truly mean it.”

“I do,” he promises her. He leans forward and kisses her forehead. “I mean it. I’ve got ‘im. Nothing’s going to happen to you, but if it does, I’ll take care of Sterling.”

“Thank you,” she says, and stands up. She’s wiping at her eyes. It’s possible that if she didn’t look so terrified Nick would be mad at her for not telling him, for waiting so long (Sterling must be a couple of months old now). “I should get ‘im home, he’s going to my mum’s while I go to the doctor’s.” 

It looks like a shadow falls over her face, as cliche as the thought is, and Nick hugs her extra hard, careful not to hurt Sterling as he gets up. “Love you,” he murmurs in her ear. 

*

That isn’t the last time he sees her, but less than a month later he gets the call. “She’s gone,” her mum says over the phone, and Nick feels his entire body seize up at the thought. “She said you were taking Sterling?”

“I am,” he says. “I’m the godfather, she asked -- she said she was putting it in her will.”

“She did,’ her mum says. “We’re coming to London tomorrow, we can bring him then.”

Nick has no idea why this is the first he’s hearing about it, a day after the fact, but he’s in no spot to complain. “Okay,” he says, and even to him his voice sounds a little hollow and lost. He has nothing that’s baby-friendly. Even his tables are pointy and low. “Give me a ring when you get in and so long as I’m not on air I’ll meet you.”

“Thank you,” she says, and pauses a minute. “She really loved you. I’m glad you’re taking him.”

 _Taking him_ , like it’s easy, like this isn’t completely throwing his life apart. God. “Of course,” he says. There was never a question and he doesn’t regret it; it’s just hard, now that he’s actually being faced with the reality of it. “Did she… did Emily have any things at hers that I might take? For him? I don’t have -- like, not even blankets.” He feels awful, asking her mum when she didn’t even know her daughter was sick, but Nick can’t do it himself. He’s never been to her house. 

“I’ll bring them with me,” her mum says. She sounds like Nick feels, awed and lost. “And maybe you and I can have lunch? I don’t even know you and -- you’re taking my grandson.” She pauses. “Will you still let me be in his life?”

Nick can’t imagine denying her that, not when -- “Of course,” he says. “We’ll have to work out how to be a proper family, because I’m not -- I’m on the outside, like, but I won’t stop anyone wanting to see him.”

“Good,” she says softly. “Is… is he Louis’s kid?” she asks, tentative. 

Nick could lie. He should lie, probably. But he’s done enough of that, and she’s bringing his baby to him (because Sterling is his baby now, legally, and he already has an emotional attachment), and he doesn’t want to lie to her. “Yeah,” he says. 

“Are you going to tell him?” she asks, a sob at the edge of her words. 

“I don’t know,” Nick says, still doesn’t want to lie. “I want to -- but I promised I wouldn’t.”

“You’ll make the right decision,” she tells him, but she doesn’t sound like she’s judging him at all; she’s just wounded and doesn’t have time for Nick’s emotional bullshit. He can understand that.

*

She meets him at his flat, Sterling in tow. 

Nick had called Harry and the two of them had gone out to buy a crib and a few other baby things. Harry gave him his mum’s books on parenting, and Nick has them all nicely laid out on his coffee table so he can peruse them at will. He’s a dad now, for all intents and purposes. He has to get ready for it. 

She has boxes and boxes in her car and Nick sets up Sterling in his new crib (freshly put together and sturdy, he’s positive) while they bring them in, stacking them in the living room. 

Ruth’s lower lip is trembling a bit, like she’s trying to keep it together but can’t quite. “It’s pretty, in here,” she says.

Nick looks around. It’s cleaner than it usually is but by no means adequate for a baby. “I’ll fix it up,” he promises. “Next time you’re here, you’ll barely recognize the place, it’ll be so fit for a baby.”

She gives him a small smile and a hug, and it’s not much longer before she’s leaving. Nick can’t blame her for that, either; she’s been through a lot. She’s done more than Nick ever would. 

She leaves, and then it’s just Nick and Sterling. 

He picks him up out of his crib, holding him in his arms. He’s barely three months old and so small Nick can barely believe he’s a person. He’s got his little arms against his chest and he smiles when he sees him, though there’s no way he recognizes Nick.

“Hi there, love,” Nick says, soft enough that it doesn’t startle him. He’s lucky he’s locked Pig outside; he doesn’t want her scaring his baby. _His_ baby. “‘m your new dad.”

Sterling gurgles and turns his head to the side, yawning and stretching his tiny little body. Nick’s heart may explode. He’s never felt this before, this all-encompassing need to protect and love this tiny human.

“Yeah,” he whispers, carrying him back to the crib and pushing it into his room, locking the wheels so it doesn’t move. “Let’s get you some sleep, mm? You’ve had a big day, haven’t you.” He kisses his forehead and pulls a blanket up over him, doesn’t know what he’s meant to do but this seems good. 

Sterling falls asleep nearly instantly, little mouth open and hands above his head. 

Nick watches him for an impossibly long time. Every time he moves he gets nervous but then he’s just adjusting, squirming.

He takes a picture of him and sends it to Harry with a caption that’s nothing but hearts. 

_he’s beautiful!_ , Harry sends back, enthusiastic like he only is when something matters, and Nick smiles. He feels a little proud even though he obviously had nothing to do with that, runs his thumb over his cheek and smiles wider. 

Finally, when he’s had his fill and Sterling is still napping, he goes back out into the living room and opens all of the things Ruth brought over for him, separating them into piles. There are boxes of toys and blankets, a swing that Nick’s eternally grateful for (he’s heard they help relax children), and all sorts of mismatched things. 

At the bottom is a letter that just says, _Nick_ in her handwriting.

He picks it up, eyes scanning it. He can’t absorb it all yet, death still too fresh in his mind, but his eyes are brimming with tears. It’s a thank you letter at the heart of it. 

It ends with, _Make sure Sterling knows I love him forever_ and that’s what makes him cry, finally, shoulders shaking, on his knees in his living room.

He’s lost her but gained something else, his boy, his -- son. If he isn’t now, doesn’t quite feel like a dad, he will be.

*

He takes the next couple weeks off of the show, needs some time to get acclimated to Sterling (and vice versa). He doesn’t really leave his house until the funeral, then, about a week later; he takes Sterling to the park but that’s it. He doesn’t have time, beyond that. 

He gets dressed in an older suit, and he wants to leave Sterling at home but he can’t be apart from him, not even for this. He won’t remember it, he’s sure; and of course he won’t let him go near the body.

He calls Harry just before, says, “Is Louis coming?” Harry couldn’t make it, had prior commitments with his mum. He feels bad calling him now but Nick’s always needed moral support. He just wants to know if Louis is going to be there, what to expect.

“I don’t know,” Harry says. 

As he’s saying it, because Nick’s life is a joke, there’s a tap on his shoulder and -- Louis Tomlinson, secret father to the baby Nick’s carrying, is standing in front of him. 

Sterling giggles and Nick kisses his forehead automatically, says, “I’ll talk to you later, Harry.” He puts his phone back in his pocket and holds Sterling up in both his arms, any good humor he might have felt gone. 

“Hi,” Louis says. His voice is rough, and Nick thinks idly of all the pictures he’s seen of him lately, all the parties he’s gone to, all the girls he’s been seen with. His eyes are bloodshot, and Nick wonders if he’s entirely sober now.

Maybe Emily was right to ask Nick not to tell him. He holds Sterling a little tighter, fixing his tiny tuft of hair. “Hi,” he says, and anything else he might have said evaporates. This isn’t about him, or even the baby; this is about Emily, a girl they both knew and loved. 

He nods inside, where people are walking into the church. “Sit with us,” he says, and he’s surprised by how kind his voice sounds. He really has spent an awfully long time being mean to him, and while he doesn’t regret it he can recognize that there are more important things to do. 

Louis nods and follows him inside. He looks weird in his suit, the sleeves too short like he couldn’t bother to be fitted for it, like this isn’t the sort of event that matters enough. Nick almost hates himself for thinking something so mean.

The funeral is awful and Sterling starts to cry halfway through. Nick ends up taking him out into the hallway, bouncing him on his hip and shushing him. He’s got tear tracks on his cheeks and he’s sniffling, rummaging around in the baby bag he’s started carrying around (it’s soft and baby blue, a gift from Daisy when she’d found out he was going to be a dad) for some tissues. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket. 

Sterling’s burying his soft little whimpers against his neck, and Nick shushes him, murmurs, “I know, darling, I know, love,” while he tries to grab it. 

It’s a text from an unknown number. 

_Do you need help with him? I’m good with babies._

He can guess who it is, and he bites the inside of his cheek as he considers it. It seems really, really irresponsible, on one hand. He’s pretty sure Louis is at least a little bit inebriated, and he’s at a funeral, for Christ’s sake, but. He deserves to meet his son, sometime.

 _Sure_ , he sends back, phone back in his pocket before he can stop himself. 

Sterling’s basically stopped fussing by the time Louis gets out there, and Nick blushes, which is probably the most ridiculous part of all of this. 

He kisses his baby’s forehead. 

Louis stops just in front of him. “The, um. The service is over, and -- they said she was going to be cremated?” he says. He sounds lost. “Was it a money thing? I would have -- I know it’s more expensive that way.”

Nick snorts. “No, Louis. She wasn’t hurting for money, anyway, she just -- in her will, she’d specified that she wanted to be cremated.” _This is your baby_ keeps running through his mind. He hadn’t expected to feel this guilty. If he tells him, he’s breaking a promise to a dead woman, one of his closest friends, and if he doesn’t he’s denying Louis the chance to be a father. 

Louis nods, smiling at Sterling. His eyes are still red but maybe, Nick thinks, not from alcohol but from crying. He might have been more fucked up over the relationship than he’d ever let on. 

“This is Sterling,” Nick says, rubbing his arm. 

“Is he yours?” Louis asks. “I didn’t know you… I mean, Harry never mentioned.”

Nick’s honestly shocked at that, considering how obsessed with babies Harry is. Though he’s never been any sort of figure in Louis’s life, he knows that; they’d had their sparring matches in the beginning but now they’re sort of casual acquaintances, exchange a nod at a party but never really talk. “He was Emily’s, actually,” he says. “I’m the godfather, though, so. He’s my kid, now.” He rubs Sterling’s arm, watching Louis’s face.

It’s as though Nick can see him doing the math in his head; he’s staring at the baby and then looking back at Nick. “What about his dad?” he asks. 

This is it. Because Nick is actually the worst fucking person, he’s going to tell him he’s a father at his ex’s funeral. In his defense, it’s been days without any sleep and “Actually, that’s -” he starts, and then Louis’s phone rings. 

“One second,” Louis says, turning around to answer it. 

Sterling starts to whine. 

It’s like that breaks the weird spell he’d been put under. He waves goodbye to Louis, nods toward the clock, and leaves. 

If he’s going to tell him (and, god, he wants to) it’ll be when they’re on equal footing, at least.

*

He takes time to feel sad about it later, when Sterling is curled up in his crib, hands in little fists above his head. 

Nick watches him, a lullaby playing on the mobile Harry had bought for him when he’d heard the news. 

Harry can help, he thinks. Harry’s on holiday, but Harry’s never minded talking to him about the things that are really important.

He walks out of his bedroom and dials his number, phone to his ear. 

Harry answers after a couple of rings, sounding sleepy and soft. “Nick?”

“I need to tell you something,” he says, keeping his voice hushed as he can tell Harry’s just woken up. “I’m sorry to call you so late, but -”

“S’fine,” Harry says, because Harry is an actual saint. He yawns, loud enough that Nick has to pull the phone away from his ear. “What’s up?”

“So you know Sterling,” Nick says. It’s completely unnecessary. Of course Harry knows Sterling; Harry was the first one Nick called after -- everything.

“Right,” Harry says. 

“And you know how I told you Emily didn’t -- didn’t want to tell anyone who the father is.”

Harry’s reply this time is a lot slower. “I never slept with Emily, Grim, wouldn’t do that to Louis. If she told you it was me --”

“No,” Nick says quickly. “Not you. It’s -- Louis, actually.”

There’s no pause at all before Harry’s saying, “ _What_? Does Louis know?”

“That’s what I’m calling to ask you about -- I need to tell him but I don’t know how,” Nick says, desperately grateful that Harry didn’t question him. It’s possible his desperation can be heard even across the continents they have separating one another. “I almost told him at the funeral but I wasn’t going to do that, obviously --”

“Good,” Harry says. 

“But now I’m sort of… lost?” He fishmouths, staring at the wall. “He deserves to know about his kid.” Even if Louis fights for full custody, even if it means he no longer has a space in Sterling’s life. As much as he doesn’t want that, Louis has a right to know. 

Harry sighs, loud again. Nick is sending him a million pictures of Sterling as thanks for all of this. “He’s coming back to London in a week or so,” he says finally. “Call him then. Get it sorted, Grim. This isn’t something for a fucking phone call but you _have_ to tell him.”

Nick looks down. Harry has the awful effect, sometimes, of making him feel like he’s the flighty teenager. He’s not wise, exactly, but occasionally he’s practical enough that it makes Nick feel incredibly irresponsible. “I will,” he promises. 

“You’d better, or I’ll fly to London and steal Sterling,” Harry says around another big yawn. “God. Don’t think I’m done yelling at you, by the way.”

Nick laughs, shaky. That’s his boy. “Get some sleep,” he says, running a hand through his quiff which is sticking up everywhere. “I’ll figure this out, don’t you worry.”

Harry hums like he doesn’t believe him. “Good night, Grim. Give ‘im a kiss for me.”

“I will,” Nick mumbles. “Night, Haz.” He hangs up and opens a chat with the number he’s saved in his phone as _Tomlinson_. _Louis_ feels too personal. 

_lunch next Sat.? there’s something I want to talk to you about. stop by mine around 1 if youre free._

It’s entirely too impersonal and maybe too serious, but. It’s a serious topic, he reasons. 

He gets into his bed, the crib right next to him. He doesn’t see the point of separating himself from Sterling if he doesn’t have to; he has a guest room but that one hasn’t been properly cleaned in ages and this way he can protect him.

He doesn’t get a reply until the next morning, a simple _sure_ that makes his heart beat loud in his chest. 

Nick wants to meet at his flat, but Louis argues; he wants to meet Nick in public. He can’t say he blames him. Nick’s never invited him to his flat before, he could want -- anything, really. 

*

They meet at a little coffee place near to Nick’s place. At the last minute he’d decided to leave Sterling with Daisy; she adores him, buys him all the cutest onesies, and she’s told him she’s been looking up recipes for organic baby food for as soon as he can eat solids. 

Louis is already there. For once, Nick is the late one and he’d feel bad about it if he weren’t so fucking nervous. 

“What, no baby?” Louis asks, grinning bright and easy. There are bags under his eyes and his hands are shaking a little; Nick wonders how bad a hangover he has. 

“Nope,” he says, looking at the menu. “I, um. That’s actually sort of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow at him. “What’s that, then? You want me to be a babysitter? Harry to be named godfather?” He’s teasing, clearly, and Nick’s always found his teasing sort of charming and endearing but right now he’s about ready to strangle him. 

“Actually, no,” he says. He clears his throat, takes a sip of water. His leg is bouncing under the table. “I wanted to tell you something, actually.”

Louis goes quiet, frowning. “What?” he finally asks. Nick can hear the beginnings of understanding in his voice. 

“You’re Sterling’s dad,” he says quietly, looking at his menu. He’s gripping it so tightly his knuckles hurt. “She didn’t want me to tell you -- she was worried you wouldn’t want to be in his life --”

“And you know better than her, is that it?” Louis snaps. 

“No, obviously, but I think you have the right to know,” Nick snaps back. He’s cranky and tired and he gets that this is a shock but honestly, Louis can go fuck himself if he’s going to treat this like it’s nothing, Nick being a dick. 

“I’m not the dad,” Louis tells him, voice sure. “She -- we.” He closes his eyes and rests his face against his hands, and Nick watches it cross his face, the realization and the fear. He’d comfort him if he weren’t still smarting. “Fuck,” he whispers, so quietly Nick feels almost guilty. 

“You are,” Nick says. 

Louis pulls his hand away and looks at him. “So -- what do you want from me?” he asks, and winces, obviously feeling awkward. 

“Well,” Nick says. He’s relieved, truth be told, that the hard part is out of the way. “Really, that’s up to you. We could --”

“Do you not want to take care of him anymore?” he asks. His voice is doing something complicated that Nick doesn’t understand, like he’s defensive without knowing how to be. 

“Of course I do,” Nick says. “He’s -- I’ve only had him two weeks but he’s mine, isn’t he? I love him,” he says, voice catching. He can’t imagine giving Sterling up; it’s Louis’s choice but it was also Emily’s, and he desperately hopes Louis won’t take this away from him. 

“He’s mine, too,” Louis says quietly. 

“I know he is,” Nick says. He’s trying to be gentle, but it probably comes out harsher than that. “I just want to do whatever you’re comfortable with. If you want him out of my life…” He trails off, doesn’t actually voice his thoughts though he’s thinking about it. 

Louis waves a hand. “I don’t want that,” he says. “Em obviously thought you were the better dad, of the two of us, I’m not about to go against her judgment. Even if she is --” He breaks off, shaking his head. 

“For what it’s worth,” Nick says slowly, “I don’t think you will be. But -- we can ease into it, yeah?” Any reservations he may have had about trusting Louis have gone out the window at this, at how shy and almost worried he looks. 

“You didn’t have to ease into it,” Louis says. 

God, Nick didn’t expect to be having to comfort him like this. “I suppose not,” he murmurs. “That doesn’t mean… like. I knew about it beforehand. I knew she was sick, she came and told me.”

Louis nods, not making eye contact with him. 

“I told her she should tell you,” Nick says. It feels like he’s doing a disservice to Emily’s memory, but he has to tell him the truth. “She didn’t want to, I couldn’t make her.”

“And you don’t feel bad about breaking your promise now?” Louis asks. His voice is bitter. 

“No,” Nick says. “I think she made a bad call, and I don’t want Sterling to be without you in his life just because of it.”

“Might be a better life without me,” Louis says. He sounds as though he’s trying for humor but misses the mark and just ends up -- sad. 

“It won’t be,” Nick says quietly. “He’ll be lucky to have you in his life, I promise you that.”

Louis sighs, slow. He nods. “Can we go back to yours?” he asks. “I want to meet him properly. Maybe I could… take him home for the night?”

Nick hasn’t let Sterling sleep anywhere but his for as long as he’s had him, and while he trusts Louis he’s hesitant. “Do you have a place he could sleep?” he asks. 

Louis deflates a little, shoulders sagging. “No, I suppose not,” he murmurs. “That’s all right, I can always come back tomorrow?”

Nick worries his lower lip with his thumb. He has the empty guest room, and he tells himself it isn’t weird to ask. “You could stay at mine,” he offers. “Stay with Sterling and I. Just so you, like. Get some proper time with him.”

Louis frowns, a little wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. “Would that be weird?” he asks. 

“Not for me,” Nick says, mostly honestly. He’s pushing all thoughts of how he used to think of Louis out of his mind, the time they had almost -- well. This is strictly about him and his kid. “You’re his dad and you deserve to be with him, but I’m… I’m a little worried about letting him be somewhere else?” he offers. He clears his throat, trying to buy himself some time. He plays with the rim of his cup. “Not that I don’t trust you. I just don’t know you, and --”

“And Emily didn’t trust me.”

“This isn’t about Emily,” Nick says, waving a hand. “Harry would vouch for you in a heartbeat. This is just -- Sterling. I love him. I want the best for him.”

Louis nods, chewing his thumb nail. He looks so, so young, and Nick has no idea how he’s holding it together this well. “You’ll be there?” he asks quietly in a voice Nick absolutely doesn’t understand. 

“Of course I will,” Nick says. “I’ll help you as much as you need. We can work it out.” _Together_ , he thinks, and has to shove that unceremoniously out of his mind. They’re not doing anything together, just simultaneously. 

“Then I’d like to go get started on that,” Louis says slowly. “I want to meet him, if that’s all right.”

Nick smiles, draining his cup and nodding toward the door. “Let’s go, then,” he says softly, getting out of his chair. 

*

They pick up Sterling from Daisy’s house, along with an actual basket full of things she insists Nick has to have. She hugs them both and gives them all kisses goodbye, and even Louis, seasoned popstar, looks a little starry-eyed.

Nick laughs as he puts Sterling into his car seat, grinning at him. “You all right there?” he teases. 

Louis glares, and promptly gets into the back seat. “I’m going to get to know my son,” he says, and Nick’s proud of him that his voice only shakes a little at the words. “And you’re going to chauffeur us all around London to get to do that, isn’t that right, Sterling?”

Sterling gives a little gurgle. 

Nick is so fond of them both it feels like his heart is going to explode. 

Louis babbles the entire fucking ride home, talking about things -- “Oh, you can’t see it, Sterling -- god, that’s a terrible name, no offense. Can I come up with a nickname for you?” -- in an almost singsong. 

Nick’s never been so glad to be home as when he pulls up the driveway. He’s trying to pretend he’s irritated, but he really couldn’t be further from it. “I’m going to take Pig for a walk,” he says, nodding inside. “You get settled with him. Everything you need is there, and you’ve got my number.” He realizes, briefly, that he never asked just how Louis got his number. He suspects Harry, though he knows he wouldn’t just hand it out willy-nilly. Louis may have _asked_ for it.

Nick needs his stupid crush from ages ago to shut up, is the thing. This isn’t about either of them, he reminds himself. This is about his baby. Their baby, though it isn’t as though they’re raising it together. The baby that they’re concurrently raising, so long as Louis chooses to stay.

In the deep, selfish part of his heart, Nick hopes he does. 

He takes Pig for a walk and has a bit of a cry at Aimee in the park while she runs around, whinging on the phone to her as he always does. She tells him, as lovingly as possible, to shut up about it, because he has bigger things to deal with at the moment. She’s right, of course she is. 

He gets inside and pauses when he’s just in the door, because -- well. Louis and Sterling are asleep on the couch, Sterling on his chest. 

Nick’s heart catches in his throat and skips a beat. It’s possible that having Louis stay here is a terrible idea. 

He goes to clean up from earlier, can’t stand here watching all day or he’ll do something ridiculous like take a picture of them, and that’s -- as much as he wants to keep this image in his mind forever, that isn’t fair to Louis. It isn’t right. 

He goes to do his dishes from the past few days. He hasn’t had time to clean properly in forever; he’s always chasing after Pig or helping Sterling or napping on the couch. 

He remembers as he’s drying the last dish that he has to go back to work the next week, too. Fuck. 

He could always -- he swallows hard at the thought, looking behind him. He can hear the rustling of people waking up, Louis’s soft voice going, “Want your daddy?” and Nick can -- god, he can hear the smile.

He isn’t expecting at all for Louis to come into the kitchen to find him, sleep-rumpled and eyes soft, carrying his baby. “Here he is,” he tells Sterling, holding his hand so he can wave a little fist at him. 

Sterling’s face softens when he sees Nick and he tries to squirm out of his arms. 

Nick takes him, looking at Louis. “You didn’t want to take him?” he asks. 

Louis shrugs. “You’re the dad, ‘m just the…” He trails off.

“Also the dad,” Nick says. “You’ve missed -- god. Three months, Louis. And I’ve only been here a couple weeks of that. You’re just as much a dad as I am.”

Louis shrugs, looking down at his feet. “Doesn’t feel like it,” he mumbles. 

“You _are_.” Nick is always terrible at comforting people but he has to try, here, shifts Sterling’s weight to his other side and reaches out to squeeze his arm. 

Louis looks up, eyes a little wide. He looks scared, and Nick doesn’t -- this doesn’t make sense. He’s only ever looked like that once before, just before Nick kissed him. 

Maybe he thinks Nick is trying to flirt? He drops his hand after a second, using it to hold Sterling more easily. “I’m not trying anything,” he murmurs. He doesn’t have to keep it quiet, it isn’t as though Sterling understands, but it still feels like a private conversation, just for them. “I promise. I was just trying to be comforting.”

Impossibly, Louis looks even sadder at that, like he’s said the wrong thing. Nick’s too tired for this, it’s been a day of emotions and -- god. Everything. “Here,” he says, handing Sterling gently back to Louis. “Go bond with him, or -- put him in his swing if you want to do something else, I’ll get dinner started.”

“You hate cooking,” Louis says.

Nick laughs, going pink. He’s not thinking about how he only cooks for people he wants to woo, not at all. “I don’t, really,” he says, waving a hand. “And I don’t mind. Go! Bond with your son.”

“ _Your_ son,” Louis says, but obediently leaves, Sterling in his arms.

Nick sags against the counter, relieved, honestly. It’s too much, dealing with -- him, especially when he knows he’s going to stay at his house tonight, when he knows how he tastes and how he looks but has all but forgotten how he feels. 

He spends ages on the dinner, much longer than he usually does, makes a simple chicken dish with pasta that Daisy taught him how to make himself and a salad for him, chocolate cake for dessert. He’s got a bottle of wine that would pair well with it, and -- god. He’s thinking about this as a date already. 

They eat out on the patio, Sterling settled down for another nap, baby monitor on the table between them. Nick’s never eaten dinner with a romantic interest out here, never really had the opportunity. He’s trying to separate the rest from this in his mind, trying to make this seem less like what he’s after, but he can’t help it. 

“I’ve got wine,” he says, when Louis has all but licked his plate clean. “And, um -- and cake. I made it myself.”

“How sweet,” Louis says, smiling a small little thing. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you liked me a little.”

Nick just rolls his eyes, laughing. He takes their plates inside, checks on Sterling (and maybe snaps a picture of him for Harry, who likes daily updates), and heads back out with a plate for each of them, two glasses, and the bottle. He pours them both a glass and looks out at the sunset, feet up on the little table he keeps out there. 

Louis is quiet for a bit. “This feels almost like a date,” he says. He sounds like Nick feels, like he’s trying for casual but desperate for it not to be. Nick may be projecting. He doesn’t think he is. 

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing his thumb across the rim of the glass. “You’re right.” He doesn’t say anything else for a second, has to take a breath. “It could be, if you wanted it to.” This is ridiculous. If this goes wrong -- god. They’re going to have the most awkward relationship with one another. With Sterling. 

He wants it too badly, though, to give it up before he can even ask for it. 

“And if I didn’t?” Louis asks. 

Nick’s heart sinks. “Then you’d stay on the couch and I’d stay in my bed, and it’d all be exactly the same,” he says quietly. He just hopes Louis isn’t mad at him; he doesn’t think he can take that when they’re meant to be -- raising this baby concurrently. 

Louis is quiet again. It’s maddening. “I want this to be a date,” he says, like he’s pushing every word out. 

Nick doesn’t look at him, doesn’t think he can take it. His heart feels -- god, light and full and -- “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Louis says, lighter now. 

Sterling starts to cry, because once again, Nick’s life is a joke. He closes his eyes, rubbing his hand over his face. “Shit,” he whispers. 

“Hey,” Louis says, hand on his leg. Nick looks at him; he looks terrified. “I’ll get him.”

Nick wants to protest but maybe he just needs a minute, so. He nods, waiting out on the porch, staring out into the sunset. He’s ridiculous, and pining, and he needs to just -- 

Louis comes back out, shutting the door behind him quietly. “Just needed a change,” he says. 

Nick doesn’t want to notice, but Louis has changed too. He’s wearing something much more fitted now, and. God. Nick’s heart picks up speed. 

“You did?” he asks. 

Louis blushes, looking down as he sits in his same chair as before. “I want this to be a date,” he says again, like Nick hasn’t said anything. “So I changed, because this is how I’d dress on a date.”

Nick smiles. “You look lovely,” he says.

Louis turns to look at him, and Nick thinks he looks -- scared, almost. “You think so?”

“I do,” he says very seriously. “Amazing, even, but that’s always.” He’s leaning in a little, can’t help it. He wants a better chance this time, one that leads to neither of them regretting it. 

Louis is staring at his mouth. “Well. Can’t argue with that,” he says quietly, and scoots his chair closer, knee brushing against Nick’s. “Kiss me,” he whispers. “And then -- take me on a date. A real one. Tomorrow morning, yeah? Can leave Sterling with me mum, I may have -- I told her about him while you were in the loo earlier.”

It’s all happening so fast, Nick’s head is spinning. “Okay,” he says, laughing a little, because he’s always been a sucker for this boy. “Whatever you want, god.”

“And then we can raise him together,” Louis says. “Not -- not _together_ together, but both of us at the same time. You can watch him while I’m on tour and I can -- stay here with you, while I’m not. I’m not going to take him away from you.” He’s not looking at him properly, the hole in his jeans instead. “Even if this doesn’t work out, I want -- that. I want to do it like that.”

“It will work out,” Nick tells him, and he’s not sure but it seems like Louis needs to hear it. “At least on my end, it will.”

Louis doesn’t answer, just kisses him, hands on his legs. “Should’ve dressed up for you earlier,” he says, laughing a tiny bit into it. “Made my intentions more clear.”

“You looked lovely today,” Nick tells him, because he had. He wouldn’t lie about it. “Thought about kissing you that entire time.”

Louis smiles, pursing his lips like he’s trying to hide it. “I was hoping you would,” he admits quietly.

Nick laughs, impossibly pleased. “Come here,” he says softly, and kisses him again.


End file.
